The World's Fair Affair
by Victoria M
Summary: UNCLE at Expo 67


The two vids that accompany this story were made by dreamybluemeany and can be watched on youtube (since I can't put links into the text, I've given the URL). If you can, please choose high quality to watch them in, as the impact is much greater.

The World's Fair Affair

_July 17, 1967, 9am_

Summer vacation impends. Am distinctly unthrilled. Yours Truly apparently only person at drama school who cannot get summer work in the biz. Kay is making radio advertisement for toothpaste; Jenny will be Second Spirit and Fourth Mermaid in off-off-off production of Tempest; Dalarna has walk-on part in new TV sitcom about family with screwy babysitter who is really disgraced angel sentenced to community work. Will be v. depressing if have to spend vac waiting tables and serving drinks, but am not yet despairing as still possible that rich Uncle Alexander will come through with generous check to support struggling artiste. Said artiste is after all close relative, and now that Uncle Lester has sadly passed away, responsibility for supporting black sheep surely falls to Uncle A? Perhaps should send second letter hinting at dark future involving seedy nightclubs and exotic dancing, as Uncle Alexander surely not willing to have shame brought down on family by fate worse than death. Ooh, mailman! Perhaps has brought letter with fat check from Uncle A…

_9.30am_

Huh. Should have known better than to expect fat check from Uncle Scrooge. Did, however, get offer of summer job working for his organization, just like last year. Wish Uncle A did not have quite such a snotty way of writing ("Dear Maude, I would have sent you a cheque. However, I was sure you would not wish to be treated as a charity case"). Has he not heard of Patronage of the Arts? Besides, if nobody accepted charity, where would all the philanthropists be? Also, wish he would not keep calling me "Maude" instead of Mimi as number of Hollywood stars called Maude can be listed on fingers of man with amputated hand. However, beggars can't be choosers, and summer job with uncle's UNCLE better than waiting tables. Perhaps will finally have something interesting to write in diary! No point carrying it around everywhere if only ever write down what I had for lunch. Last time at UNCLE actually rather fun, even if did not get to go on any real missions. Wonder who will be required to flirt with this time? Ooh, perhaps will be Napoleon's blond Russian friend with name like Potemkin or something. Must brush up on Chekhov quotes so can impress him. Seem to recall has forehead bulging with brains, so important to seem intellectual as well as cute.

_July 18 1967, 10am_

Huh. No luck on flirting front. Have been given same assignment as last time. On plus side, will be carrying out assignment IN THE FIELD! Perhaps will get gun! Pointed out to Uncle A that strategy of pretending to have date with NS in order to keep his mind off the fair sex will not work this time as he is bound to remember me. Uncle A merely grunted sceptically and then said I should go down to make-up department and pick out a French-looking wig. V. excited at prospect of being sent to _la belle_ France instead of sitting at boring old communications console trying to kill time in between flirting. Perhaps if pick really good wig will not be recognised by M. Solo, but have my doubts, as did get rather intimately acquainted.

_11.30am_

Picked brains of wardrobe mistress and heard that NS has been assigned to Paris. Yes! Will climb Eiffel Tower, and go to Moulin Rouge, and drink champagne, and do whatever else French people do, if not too hungover by then. Must buy one of those "Teach Yourself French in Three Days" tapes so can converse with locals. Wardrobe mistress says NS's friend - whose name turns out to be Kuryakin not Potemkin (easy mistake to make, though) - and another agent called Dancer also assigned to Paris. Wonder if can persuade IK to enjoy view from Eiffel Tower with me? Might invite Dancer, too, if good-looking enough. What kind of name is Dancer, though? Sounds more like one of Santa's reindeer than highly-trained international spy. Suppose will have to invite NS to Eiffel Tower as well, given job description. Not that there is anything wrong with NS, but am eager to expand my horizons.

_3.30pm_

Showed off new Brigitte Bardot wig to Uncle A, who grunted again, but think was appreciative grunt. Then had to listen to long lecture about this being mission, not pleasure, and that while what I did in my own time was my business, was emphatically not to succumb to M. Solo's wily ways until after job over, as otherwise he would lose interest. Told Uncle A was not born yesterday, but cannot help wondering how respectable old gent like him so well informed about habits of playboys.

_4pm_

Huh. Turns out am not going to Paris, France, but Paris, Montreal (part of French Expo exhibit). Do not relish prospect of weeks spent in frozen North but am told exhibition will showcase highlights of French culture, so at least should get champagne. Am traveling with Agent Dancer, who is my contact and knows my true identity, unlike NS and IK, who must be kept in dark for flirting purposes. Disappointed not to be flying with IK but is probably good thing as am not sure can keep up French accent for entirety of flight. Wonder if Dancer is as good-looking as IK and NS?

_July 19 1967, 8am_

Huh. Agent Dancer turns out to be GIRL. What a letdown!

_9.30am_

Attempted to make light conversation with Dancer on way to airport. Turns out that in reindeer terms she is more Prancer than Dancer, and more Vixen than Cupid. Has full lips of kind sported by Hollywood starlets in bathing suits, and towers over Yours Truly, especially in heels (am what French call_ pettitte_, whereas Dancer easily as tall as IK). Also has fantastic clothes that surely are not affordable on kind of salary Uncle Scrooge pays, and very glamorous hairstyle. Asked her if UNCLE wardrobe had provided wig as well as outfit. Dancer rolled eyes and said people who thought combining pink pantyhose with red shoes was cool fashion statement are hardly in position to criticize hairstyles. Do not think flight will be much fun.

_12.45pm_

Spent flight knocking back complimentary vino. Flight attendant kept popping up with intriguing little bottles, and naturally could not resist trying all of them. Rather cheap and nasty but beggars can't be choosers. When am famous actress will only get sloshed on top notch champagne, but till then will have to make do with freebies. Dancer gave me nasty look, reminiscent of Wicked Witch of West. Nobly overlooked it and offered her glass, but she said she didn't drink on the job. Thought that was silly remark as she is only a passenger and not actually flying plane.

_2pm_

Caught heel in metal stairway disembarking from plane and would have fallen on face if Wicked Witch of West had not caught me. Has surprisingly strong muscles for a girl, also v. fast reflexes. Am embarrassed to say that hiccupped in her face by way of thank you. Should perhaps consider cutting down on alcohol consumption in her presence.

[Vid: Uncle at Expo 67 on youtube:

.com/watch?v=plVkZJdMaVw&feature=channel_page]

_6pm_

French pavilion absolutely AMAZING, like carousel of giant slide projector made of concrete and glass. Inside is gigantic bathtub with drain – okay, water installation - and thing called a polytope, which is funky display of lights suspended on wiry net hanging from ceiling. Have never seen anything like it. Can't wait to see effect when it's switched on. Also extensive display of French food and drink in restaurant. Must try to secure invite there, but will try to avoid sampling frog's legs and snails, which have heard are occupational hazard of French food.

_July 20 1967, 12.30pm_

This mission definitely less tedious than last one. Am going UNDERCOVER! In incredibly chic uniform as Yvette, hostess in Paris section of exhibit! ("Paris" really just screens with scenes of Parisian life projected on them, but looks really cool and can easily imagine am in _Quartier Latin_, sipping _café au lait_ and hanging out with French _hommes_). Did not forget instructions from Uncle A (no truth to rumor that am unreliable) and kept eye out for NS, but he didn't show up. IK arrived, though. Offered to show him round Paris, but he said real thing was better and could I tell him way to exhibition of atomic reactors. Could not face looking at science thingies even for chance of striking up conversation with IK, so stuck with hostess duties. Will nip over to Russian pavilion to see if girls there can provide good Chekhov quotes to establish rapport when he returns.

_3.30pm_

How many hours can someone spend looking at atomic reactors?

_5pm_

Turns out is true what they say about virtue being its own reward. After several hours of hostessing, just as feet starting to hurt and head getting over-heated under wig, fell into conversation with very tall and dapper Frenchman. Had to admit was not actually French myself – cunningly said was Canadian and had been employed when outbreak of food poisoning spread by out-of-date snails put original hostess out of commission – but Frenchman v. understanding and said his patriotism was not outraged because I was such a charming hostess. Ended by discussing hypothetical possibility of one day going to restaurant with him to eat _grenouilles _(sound delicious, whatever they are) and drink _vin rouge_ (apparently '58 _Chateau de Watchamacallit _particularly good).

_6pm_

WWW asked if anyone had tried to pick me up while hostessing. Said no. Do not want Miss Prancer muscling in on my Frenchman, and anyway, what's it got to do with her?

_July 21 1967, 3pm_

NS finally showed up in Paris. Made dutiful eyes at him. He made very undutiful eyes back. Had forgotten how much fun he is to flirt with. Didn't seem to recognize me, which is not v. flattering, but at least means am _tres bon_ actress. Dropped hints that I was French innocent abroad keen to improve cultural relations with Americans. NS dropped hints that was rich businessman thinking of investing in French industry. Asked him if he had ever considered exploring the Arts in greater depth. All great fun.

_6pm_

WWW came on next tour and went for coffee with me afterwards. Dull, dull, dull. Why does IK never come to Paris and take me for coffee afterwards? Come to think of it, why do UNCLE agents keep coming here? Surely do not need to learn about Paris? Did ask WWW why we were here at Expo. She said Intelligence had picked up on rumors that Paris branch of Thrush is planning operation here, something to do with planned visit of General de Gall, who is French head of state even though he sounds like an internal organ. Stopped listening after that because politics always makes me sleepy and foreign politics single most-snore inducing subject on face of planet.

_July 22 1967, 11am_

IK came to Paris today. Hooray! However, did not seem interested in casual conversation with charming hostess. Did not seem especially interested in exhibition either. Do not see why has to be so snobbish just because has been to real Paris. If UNCLE agents are going to use exhibitions as excuse for hanging around building, will have to fake more convincing interest. Tried to weave Chekhov quote into conversation, but couldn't find opportunity. V. annoying that Chekhov set all his plays in 19th century Russia, as makes it hard to drop references into modern conversation. In desperation, asked IK what he thought of exhibit of atomic reactors upstairs and his eyes lit up. Unfortunately, atomic reactors even more boring than politics, so tuned out somewhere after first three sentences.

_6pm_

NS came to Paris this afternoon. Seized chance to ask him why this particular exhibition so interesting. He said it was not so much the exhibition as the hostess that was so attractive. Have decided am relieved that he is my target and not IK. Suspect IK would be impossible to flirt with, unless disguised self as atomic reactor. Hinted to NS that coffee might be in order after tour. He said next time, and surely a charming young lady like self got loads of coffee offers. I smiled winsomely and said none had appealed so far. See no reason to inform NS about what I get up to off-duty.

_Wee small hours of morning_

Woke up in middle of night with shocking realization of why IK so interested in atomic reactors. Perhaps are not models at all! Suspect Thrush plans to blow General de Gall Bladder sky-high during visit! Took several hours to get back to sleep after this because could not get Tom Lehrer song "We shall all go together when we go!" out of head. Will make trip upstairs today to see if can spot any signs of Thrush interference.

_23 July 1967, 7am_

Had to put on extra make-up this morning, because face so pale and haggard after dreadful night, alternating bouts of sleeplessness with being chased around Expo by Tom Lehrer singing "Once the rockets go up, who cares where they come down?" Had not realized UNCLE agents carry such heavy burden around with them ALL THE TIME. Can only hope NS & co know what they are doing. Found it v. hard to concentrate on hostessing while agonizing about fate of world, or at least Canada, which comes to same thing, since am currently in Canada.

_11am_

Apparently IK's turn to come to exhibition this morning. Did not look as if he had suffered sleepless night. UNCLE agents must have nerves of steel. Asked him if he would show me atomic reactors in lunch break. Looked v. surprised – eyebrows crawled all the way up his forehead and almost disappeared under his hair – but said would show me them that evening, as was busy till then.

_2.30pm_

My Frenchman came this afternoon and invited me to dinner this evening. Said yes, but could not help feeling queasy uneasiness, or uneasy queasiness, not sure which. What if Frenchman is Thrush plant? What if everybody on tour is Thrush plant? What if IK is Thrush plant??? Know he has been working for UNCLE for ages, but is Russian after all, so hard to know where true loyalties lie. Do not know where to turn. Wish Uncle Alexander was here.

_6pm_

Did not dare tell IK why suddenly so interested in atomic reactors in case he really was KGB or Thrush plant, but don't think it matters as I didn't understand a word he said anyway. Impossible to tell if reactor is model as looks exactly like real thing – is not made out of Lego or such – and could probably produce massive explosion even if not atomic. Saw self reflected in glass window in front of reactor and discovered wig had slipped slightly. Have horrible fear did entire tour with wonky wig – wish had chosen something less blonde, as contrast with real hair impossible to overlook.

Caught sight of Frenchman looming up behind me in glass while adjusting my wig. Looked at him in panic thinking, great, now all of Thrush will know that I am not real hostess. Frenchman caught my gaze in glass and must have seen what I was thinking, because I suddenly felt something hard pushed into small of my back and heard him hiss to startled IK, "You 'ad better come with me, Mr Kuryakin, if you do not want something very unpleasant to 'appen to this young lady!"

Hoped someone in crowd would raise alarm, but crowd unfortunately v. crowded, so did not strike anyone as odd that three people were walking so close together. Frenchman led us to back corridor, where invisible door suddenly opened magically in wall to reveal further corridor with another magic door at end. Went through this to little cell type room, where Frenchman relieved IK of gun and communicator, and then door suddenly and silently shut behind us, leaving Frenchman outside. Must say that French technology really v. impressive, at least when it comes to doors. IK also impressed, although of course he didn't say so, but could tell he must be, because could not open door in spite of producing entire armory of door-opening objects from about his person, including explosives concealed in BELT!!! Will think twice about embracing NS again, at least until has removed all items of clothing.

_23 July 1967, 11pm _

Were stuck in cell for AGES. Had got to point when could think of nothing beyond urgent need to relieve self – IK apparently unaffected; not just UNCLE agents' nerves that are made of steel – when Frenchman thankfully came back. Would otherwise have been most humiliating experience of entire life, with possible exception of time last summer when Uncle Alexander made unexpected visit to communications center and caught me under sunlamp in v. skimpy bikini. Was rather surprised when not taken back to atomic reactors but down to first floor to room with drain, sorry, water installation. Building looked v. strange and eerie without hordes of visitors gaping at everything.

"I 'ope you will enjoy our little polytope," said Frenchman, in disgustingly suave French accent, and then pushed switch. Everything plunged into darkness until polytope started up, with sort of tinkly, scratchy sound. Lights very beautiful, all whirly and sparkly and flashy. Was afraid at first that was part of diabolical plot and would sear out my eyeballs or similar, but nothing happened. Glanced over at IK to see if he was planning clever and daring escape, but IK staring fixedly at display like kid in candy store, so decided had better imitate him in case this was part of plan.

Afterwards Frenchman asked us how we liked it. Refused to give him satisfaction of showing was impressed, so said "_Comme çi, comme ça_," which was on Day One of "Teach Yourself French in Three Days". Pleased to see that this annoyed him, as he raised eyebrows and then said in Ominous Tones of Doom, "You will forget you ever saw this." Wasn't sure how to react, but saw from corner of my eye that IK was nodding, so nodded too. Frenchman evidently not much of a villain, because he believed us immediately. Should consider criminality as a career myself. Could become leader of underworld in two months with brilliant new policy known as LYING. Also, if ever am leader of criminal organization, will not let my captives go after showing them pretty light show, but will take them back to HQ and interrogate them. Possibly with pointy sticks and other unpleasantnesses. Know that if Frenchman had threatened me with pointy stick, would immediately have told him EVERYTHING (not that know very much; IK obviously knows a lot more, but perhaps he is impervious to pointy sticks).

"Listen carefully," went on Frenchman, who evidently liked sound of own accent. "I will only say this once. You, Mister Kuryakin, will get rid of Napoleon Solo – wipe 'im out, bump 'im off, remove 'im from the equation - and you, Miss Waverly, will come back and report when Kuryakin 'as done it. I 'ave a further use for you."

Wasn't sure how supposed to react to this dire prediction, v. reminiscent of witches in _Macbeth_, so looked over at IK, who nodded dumbly. Cunningly did same. Then Frenchman led way to front door, unlocked it and pushed us out. And there we stood, in frozen North, only was actually fairly warm because was summer time, until I said, "I think this calls for a stiff drink."

"I have work to do," said IK, in usual friendly fashion, and started to slope off. Didn't even offer to take me home. Russian education system clearly deficient where lessons in etiquette concerned.

"Hang on," I yelped, "hadn't we better tell Napoleon about this?"

IK gave me shocked look. Realized he still thought I was Yvette, helpless and innocent Expo hostess, and not UNCLE employee.

"I work for UNCLE, too," I said.

IK looked even more disapproving. "I know," he said (which was obvious lie, but suppose did not want to lose face). "And I suggest you concentrate on fulfilling your mission."

"I can concentrate on my mission _and_ tell Napoleon," I said. "I have a date with him tonight. You'll have to give me a lift, otherwise I'll miss it."

Drove in silence over bridge and into downtown Montreal. IK clearly brooding on Thrush's evil plan. Was quite impressed by IK's brainpower, if not by his manners, as do not personally have clue how light display is meant to help Thrush blow up Canada. As we drove up dark side road towards restaurant, saw NS standing outside looking at his watch, so rolled down window and called "Cooeee, Napoleon! Here I am!" NS looked up, light from streetlamp falling rather beautifully on his face, and car suddenly swung violently to right, heading straight towards him. For horrible moment thought IK had had stroke or something, but when turned to him, saw he was wide awake, face rigid with concentration. Screamed, naturally. When this had no effect, grabbed hand brake and wrenched it. Car spun round like ballerina executing pirouette, missed NS by inches and crashed into pile of garbage cans.

NS vaulted athletically over garbage cans and pulled door open.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine!" I gasped. "Just a little shaken. I'm not sure about Illya, though."

IK must have hit head on steering wheel during pirouettes, because was lying back with eyes shut and blood dribbling from temple. NS leaned across me in very suggestive fashion and slapped his face a few times. IK's eyes blinked open.

"What the hell happened there?" said NS.

IK looked blank. "I don't know," he said

"He tried to kill you!" I squeaked. "Just like the Frenchman told him too!"

"What do you mean? What Frenchman?" snapped NS.

"The Frenchman at the Expo. He told Illya to kill you. I thought Illya was just faking agreement, but I guess it worked for real."

"What are you talking about?" said IK irritably. "What Frenchman?"

NS frowned. "I wish you'd break this habit of getting brainwashed, Illya," he said. "If the psych department ever has to open up your skull, I dread to think what they'll find."

"I've been brainwashed?" said IK, rather dozily.

"Do you have a more plausible explanation for why you would try to kill me?" said NS.

IK opened mouth to reply, but NS cut him off. "Don't you remember anything about it?" he said.

IK looked thoughtful. "No," he said eventually.

NS turned to me.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It was while he was showing off the polytope," I said eagerly. "He told him to kill you and that we should forget all about seeing him. It must have been some kind of hypnosis." I paused, struck by sudden thought. "I don't know why it didn't affect me. I can remember everything."

"Right," said NS, displaying manly decisiveness, "we need to put this polytope thing out of action. You're our secret weapon, Maude, since we know it doesn't affect you. April had better go with you to keep an eye on things, and Illya and I will lurk in the background in case anything goes wrong."

Did not at all like sound of being secret weapon, especially if it meant having to go back to French pavilion and face skulking Thrush agents, but had to admit that NS could not go, as supposed to be dead, and IK brainwashed puppet entirely under Frenchman's evil will. Can only hope AD is good with gun.

_24 July 1967, 3am_

Picked up AD on way back to French pavilion and told her whole story. AD asked why IK affected and not me. Said miserably that perhaps possession of brain prerequisite for brain-washing, but April v. surprisingly said no, I have perfectly good brain, even if I don't always use it, so must be some other factor. Have decided I like April, and am sorry kept thinking of her as Wicked Witch of West.

NS broke into pavilion using cunning explosive device concealed in cufflinks – am definitely making sure all clothing removed if ever get close to him again – and we snuck in. He and IK faded somewhere into background leaving me alone with AD, who whispered encouragingly that this was my chance to show the boys I was as good as they were. Am not entirely sure this is true. At least not in my case. Also not entirely sure about April, although she is clearly v. clever and nice. Would feel more confident if man with gun were backing me up.

Was just sneaking sneakily upstairs – do not know how April manages it in high heels without constant clicking on floor – when heard tinkly, scratchy sound and lights started to flash out of darkness from all over room. Polytope had started up.

Was very disorienting, even for me. Looked around frantically and saw Frenchman standing at top of stairs, appearing and disappearing as lights flashed on and off.

"Welcome back, Miss Waverly. 'Ow nice of you to 'ave brought a friend. Is Mr Solo dead?"

I nodded dumbly, in hopefully convincing impression of hypnotized IK.

"Very good. And now I 'ave another task for you. Tomorrow you will accompany General de Gaulle on his tour of the French pavilion. I am sure Uncle Alexander can arrange that for 'is darling niece, _n'est ce pas_?"

Nodded again.

"Good. During the demonstration of the polytope, you will instruct the General to declare war on Canada in order to free Quebec. That should make a nice little trigger for World War Three, don't you think? 'Ave you understood me?"

Nodded again. Was starting to feel like nodding dog in back window of car.

The Frenchman's voice changed. "As for this lovely young lady, to whom I 'ave not yet 'ad the pleasure of an introduction," he purred," I 'ave very special plans for you. What is your name, my dear?"

"April Dancer," said April, as if in dream. Was all too horrible for words.

"Come 'ere, April," said Frenchman.

Looked around frantically for NS and IK, but no sign of them. Were doubtless standing somewhere staring slack-jawed at lights. Absolutely typical of men, never there when you need them.

[Vid on youtube: The Polytope in Action

.com/watch?v=2Bq8U1t63ck&feature=channel_page]

Well, if heroic UNCLE agents couldn't stop Thrush, at least I could. Slid my hand into April's purse, hoping desperately that would not encounter any explosives _en route_, and pulled out gun. Frenchman saw me move and put own hand under jacket, so I fired at him. Kept on firing even when Frenchman toppled over railing of stairs and did long slow fall into giant drain directly below.

That solved one problem, but was still stuck with three zombified UNCLE agents, all staring at light display as if it was preview to Second Coming. Panic must have jigged brain cells into rare alignment, because had sudden idea.

"Illya," I shouted into darkness, "switch off the polytope! Fix it so it doesn't mess with people's brains! Napoleon and April, help him! Hold up a flashlight or something! Do you understand?"

IK must really have giant brain, because figured out straight away where control center for polytope was and started pulling out wires and reconnecting them. Lights flashed and fizzled and went out.

"Well done, Maude!" said NS from behind flashlight.

"You remember!" I said. "I thought you'd be all zombie-like and brainwashed."

"No, I remember everything," said NS. "All those psychedelic colored lights." He shuddered.

I said quickly, "Ooh, yes horrible, all those, um, pinks and yellows and things."

"Pinks and yellows?" said April, sounding surprised. "You know, that explains a lot about your fashion sense. What other colors were there, Maude?"

Was forced to admit that did not know. Have always had trouble distinguishing between colors. Kids at kindergarten used to laugh at me because could not tell difference between STOP and GO when doing road safety.

"That explains why the lights didn't affect you," said NS with satisfaction. "Good work, Maude. I'll make sure Mr Waverly hears about your heroic performance when I report in."

Hope Uncle A. not so impressed that offers me a job again next year. Much prefer facing death on nice safe stage than in real life.

IK switched house lights on, then went down to drain with NS to fish Frenchman out of water. Turned out Frenchman not dead, just unconscious, with sleep dart through nose. Was rather disappointed that first time at shooting man turns out to be with sleep darts, but NS said it was just as well, as bullet through tip of nose not a disabling shot.

_24 July 1967, 10pm_

Took day off from hostessing as was no longer needed undercover and needed long sleep if was not to look utterly hag-like next day. In evening, met up with AD, NS and IK for celebratory drink. NS bought _bucket_s of champagne and said I was heroine of the hour, and April gave me big bunch of roses and said I had acquitted myself well. Even IK shook hands. V. good time had by all until halfway through evening, when radio in bar stopped playing music and started broadcasting spontaneous speech by General Gall Bladder from balcony of City Hall. Would have liked to listen, and bask in sense of having saved President of France from diplomatically embarrassing brainwashing and possible outbreak of Word War III, but speech unfortunately all in French, so could not understand word ("Teach Yourself French in Three Days" sadly lacking in vocab relating to international politics). Was just starting to nod off when IK said sharply, "Listen!"

General de Gall was evidently reaching climax of speech, as spoke v. slowly so that even I could understand.

"Vive Montréal!" he said, and crowd in background cheered. "Vive le Québec!"

Long, dramatic pause followed, and then General added, "Vive le Québec… libre!"

"Oh my God!" said April.

"Vive le Canada francais, et vive la France!" de Gall went on, and then all we could hear was sound of cheering, like ocean waves crashing on floor.

"But how is it possible?" said April. "Illya fixed the polytope. And anyway, de Gaulle hasn't even visited it yet!"

IK shrugged. "It may not be the effects of brain-washing," he said. "We must entertain the possibility that General de Gaulle is just an ass."

NS raised eyebrow and IK added, "In the _equus asinus_ sense."

At that moment NS's communicator went off, and as he moved away to answer it, I heard him say, "No, sir, I've no idea how it could have happened. Yes, sir, we did take out the Thrush device. Yes, sir. I know, sir. Mr Kuryakin's hypothesis is that the General is a donkey, sir."

"You mean he didn't just declare an invasion?" I asked. "But it sounds as if the crowd are going to kill each other."

"Trust me, I know Canadians. They'll calm down in a moment," said NS, putting away communicator. "Unlike the Old Man. Oh, sorry Maude, no disrespect intended."

"Don't call me Maude!" I said. "I hate it. And how come you know my real name, anyway?"

"Ah, that," said NS, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, actually, I've, ah, known all along. It was Mr Waverly's idea. He'd received intelligence that Thrush was planning to use a new mind control device at Expo, and he was convinced that Victor Marton wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to test it on a Waverly."

"You mean Uncle Alexander used me as _bait_?" I said, unable to believe ears.

"Well, in a manner of speaking. But you turned out to be a great deal more useful than that. I daresay next year he'll have a proper job for you."

"No thanks," I said firmly. "If Uncle Alexander wants to see me play a role again, he can darned well buy a ticket to see me in the theater."

"If you don't like Maude Waverly as a stage name, "said NS thoughtfully, "I have a few suggestions. What do you think of Angelique?"

IK must have got champagne up nose, because snorted disgustingly.

"Angelique what?" I asked.

"Just Angelique. Like Ann-Margret. Or Twiggy. All the most glamorous stars do without a surname these days, you know."

"I would suggest Narcissus Darling," said IK.

"Or Bibi de Chasseur?" said NS.

"Delilah Douro?"

"Olga Nemirovitch?"

"Mother Fear?"

Suggestions got sillier and sillier, so stopped listening. Angelique definitely cool name, though. Has certain Old World ring to it, and lack of second name v. exotic. Perhaps can add little French downstroke to increase glamour. Can't wait to see Uncle A's face when tell him that from now on wish to be known simply as Angèlique.


End file.
